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Roy Harper
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Nineteen Forty-Eight
Harper Roy
A million tons of printed shit
Come through my door each day
Up to my dick, around my neck
I can't even throw it away
Bills for my shirt, receipts for my soul
With only a momenty to pay
Before the thud of the future
Gives me the shakes
Welcome to my nightmare
It's the one in which I always burn the cakes
In 1649
Just as I light the loaded fire
A space invander lands
It's full of cops and bureaucrats
With bouquets of final demands
And I see my life flash before me again
Slipping through my hands
As the sound of harvest closes in
Swooping - reaping
Welcome to my nightmare
It's the one in which I walk when I'm not sleeping
In thirteen twenty four
The one we've all been waiting for
Nineteen eighty-four
There's a little man left to hold the can
He don't know how and his only plan
Is everlasting life
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He beats the street with his plates of meat
In the sandwhich board of his final retreat
Bellowing goodbye
Everyone sees and nobody shares
Everyone knows its the truth that he bears
That the end is nigh
And he stands against the rails at Oxford Circus
Leafleting the souls who keep this pace
That gathers speed and calls itself
The human race
And shadows fight with men of straw
In pockets of derision
While mother checks up on the stars
Denies her intuition
And sends young Julia to school
To learn an empty vision
That's full of paper tiger rats
To pass to her own children
Welcome to my nightmare
I'm the father, son and whole polluted system
In nineteen eighty-four
Nineteen eighty-four
Nineteen eighty-four
The one we've all been longing for
Nineteen eighty-four
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